The land we rode through, filled with dark history of hunted natives, was an oxymoron of stark beauty and natural opulence. The Chief Joseph highway branches off route 120 out of Cody. Our morning was filled with steep inclines and wicked turns that took us across the path that Chief Joseph lead his tribe in retreat from US soldiers. At the summit, Dead Indian Pass, Joseph had to leave behind one of his tribe who was wounded to keep up the pace. Soldiers found him there and shot him.
Red stone abutments and expansive prairie and desert shouldered the road as we climbed and then soared downward toward the basin. We swayed with the curves that lead us to route 212 and the Beartooth Pass, a 50 mile feast of climbs, descents, hairpins and switchbacks. As the temperature dropped, we rose. More of a challenge for Jules and Magic than the Chief Joseph, his eyes were on the road as mine wandered from sheer drop-off to snow covered peaks. The wind was fierce at the summit and I felt like Dorothy except I had my anchor, Jules.
Over the pass, we paused for a picnic where grizzlies wander, then back on Magic to ride the pass the other way. Weather poked its ugly gray head up in front of us, and it was another dance with the sky as each turn changed the view from blue sky to black. As we reached the bottom of the pass, the weather hand we were dealt came up all aces.
Warm sun swept us into Cooke City, population 140. A few hotels and cabins are the backbone of the economy here as it is the gateway to Yellowstone. A sleepy real- deal Western town, we dined on a wooden sidewalk, watching the clouds gather over Yellowstone.
Tonight we are sleeping in a charming log cabin, complete with wi-fI and flat screen TV. I'm wakeful, listening for the Grizzley bear that may come knocking at our door.
Construction on The Bear Tooth
A view from the top of Beartooth
Do not feed the grizzlies!
Picnic pic
Windblown
Home for the night with our welcoming committee!
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